Measure in Love
by luvforsawyer
Summary: PostRENT. Maureen and Roger are lonely and end up spending a night that will change everyone's lives forever. Please read and review!
1. There's Only Yes

**Disclaimer: **Characters and everything RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson

**Warnings: **Rated R for sexual situations and references

**Author's Note:** The absence of certain Bohemians (Collins, Joanne, and Mimi) will be explained in future chapters. And the chapter titles are all (hopefully) going to be lines from the musical.

* * *

_1992_

Roger sat on the fire escape, his guitar in his lap. He didn't play it, just held onto it. Maureen came out and sat beside him.

"Hey," she said quietly.

"Hey."

"You okay?"

"Yeah…when did you get here?"

"Just now. Mark's at work?"

Roger nodded.

"You take your AZT?"

He nodded again.

Maureen shivered and Roger set his guitar down, peeling off his jacket. He put it around her shoulders, not saying anything.

"Thanks," she said. "You sure you're okay, Rog?"

"Today's one year."

Maureen leaned her head on his shoulder. "I know…I'm so sorry, babe."

"Thanks…I just…"

"What?"

Roger shook his head. "Nothing."

"Roger, you can tell me. What?"

"I just miss her so much. I thought…I thought it would be easier with time. Like when April died…but it seems like every day….every day hurts just as much as before. Do you know what I mean?"

She nodded. "I still miss Joanne."

"Yeah but at least…nevermind…"

"At least what?"

"At least you can be with other people."

"Roger, I know how seriously you take marriage, but Mimi would be okay with you seeing other people."

"I know, I know. We talked about it before…before she got sick. That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"Mo, come on. I can't expose someone else to this."

"So use a condom."

"Thought about that…still have to tell the woman though. And not one woman I've met since Mimi has been willing to so much as kiss me after she knows it."

Maureen tilted her head up and saw the tears glittering in his eyes. She reached a hand up and pulled his face down towards her, gently kissing him. Roger stared at her in disbelief when she pulled away.

"Maureen…"

"I know. I just…"

Before she could finish the sentence, Roger kissed her, one hand on her face and one on her waist. He pulled away, uncertain of what he'd just done.

"Roger—"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"Yes, you should have. And I'm not sorry."

"You're not?"

"Nope."

"Why'd you kiss me?"

"Why'd you kiss me?"

"I asked first," Roger said with a smile.

Maureen blushed. "Because…when I looked at you, you looked as lonely as I feel. And I wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Now why'd you kiss me?"

"Because when you kissed me, it was the first time since Mimi died that I didn't feel alone."

Maureen stood up and reached a hand down to him.

"What?" he asked.

"You got any condoms?"

"Maureen, wait…" he said, following her into the loft.

"Do you or don't you?"

"Well, yeah, but Mo—"

She turned and faced him. "No, Rog. No buts. I'm tired of feeling alone. I'm tired of being alone."

"So we should have sex because we're lonely?"

"Maybe. Or maybe because we're two consenting adults who care about each other. Or maybe just because we want to."

"Maureen, I can't—"

"Can't or don't want to?"

"Can't. You know I can't."

"If we use a condom, chances are I'll be safe."

"You really want to expose yourself to this on a 'chances are'?"

Even as he said it, he stepped forward towards her.

"Yes," she said softly.

Roger's arms slipped his jacket off her shoulders and circled her waist as he leaned down to kiss her. Maureen's hands sprawled over his chest, her fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt. She backed up towards the bedroom. Roger stopped in the doorway.

"What now?" she asked.

"Gotta get the condoms from the bathroom," he said.

Maureen sat on his bed, surprised at her own actions. She wanted this. Part of her always wanted Roger. He returned a minute later, condom in hand. Maureen watched him walk towards her, butterflies in her stomach. He dropped the condom beside her as he kissed her again. In all the years they'd known each other, even before she was with Mark, they'd never crossed this line.

Reaching up, Maureen slid his shirt to the ground, kissing his neck and collarbone as she did so. She pulled back long enough for Roger to tug her sweater up over her head. Her hands glided over his chest. She hadn't realized how strong he was, how muscular. He leaned down, pushing her gently to lie on her back. Maureen could feel him hard against her leg and moaned as he kissed her again, reaching one hand behind her to take off her bra.

Maureen's hand slid between them, then into Roger's jeans. He groaned, sounding almost as if he was in pain. She stroked him a few times as his hands tangled in her hair, his mouth covering hers. Roger pulled away from her head and made a trail of kisses down to her jeans. He eased them off, letting them fall to the floor. Maureen reached for his zipper. His hand covered her, stopping her. They were both panting and sweating.

"Mo, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, even with the condom—"

Maureen reached beside her and felt for the condom. Holding it up, she gave a small smile. "No day but today, right?"

Roger had to laugh. "Maureen…"

"Forget regret. Isn't that what you always say? I don't want to have to look back and wonder."

She reached again for his zipper. This time, he didn't stop her.

Roger was different than any lover she'd had before, not that there had been many. A couple guys in college who didn't know the first thing about sex. Then Mark…Mark who'd been slow and gentle, but somehow held back. Joanne was like that, too, never fully giving herself over to the moment. None of her lovers had been big on kissing during sex. Roger, though, Roger kissed her as though the world would end if he didn't, with more passion and desire than she'd thought possible.

When they were through, Roger pulled himself out of her and stood up long enough to discard the used condom. In their haze, they didn't notice the tiny leak in the end of the condom.

Roger stumbled back to the bed. Maureen bit her lip, concerned.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just, uh, wore me out there," he laughed, lying beside her.

Roger curled an arm around her shoulders. Maureen's head fell to his chest, her arm draped across his stomach. They lay silent for a few minutes before Roger spoke.

"Maureen?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," he said, stroking her black curls.

"Think I should be thanking you, Davis," she said with a laugh.


	2. Breaking the Rules

**Disclaimer: **Characters and everything RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson

**Warnings: **Rated R for situations and mild adult language

**Author's Note:** The absence of certain Bohemians (Collins, Joanne, and Mimi) will be explained in future chapters. And the chapter titles are all (hopefully) going to be lines from the musical.

* * *

Two months later, Roger sat in the rocking chair, strumming his guitar. He looked up at Maureen, who was tapping her foot incessantly.

"Hey, Mo—think you could either tap to the beat or stop tapping altogether?" he asked with a laugh.

"Sorry. Um, listen, I, uh…Mark!"

Mark laughed behind the camera. "What?"

"Could you put that down? Please?"

"Never. I get everything on film. Besides, you look serious and we want serious stuff on film too."

"Um…" she bit her lip.

Mark lowered the camera. "Just kidding, Mo. I'll stop if you really want."

"No, no, actually maybe it'll be better to have this on film."

"What?" Roger laughed. He set the Fender down. "What's goin' on, Maureen?"

"I'm pregnant."

Mark nearly dropped the camera. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I'm pregnant."

Roger's face paled and his eyes widened. He looked at Mark, then Maureen. "Please tell me you two slept together."

Mark shook his head slowly. "Not since we broke up…"

"You had a one-night stand?"

"Could call it that."

Roger tried to read her expression.

"Do you know who the father is then? I mean, if it was a one-night stand?"

She nodded. "Roger."

Roger shook his head. "No, no, no."

"Maureen, that would mean you guys had sex."

"Thanks, Mark. I wasn't really sure how babies are made," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"But we only did it that one time," Roger said quietly.

"You had sex?" Mark asked, raising his voice.

"You know what they say, it only takes once," Maureen said with a nervous laugh.

"But we used a condom!"

"You had sex?"

"Well apparently it broke!"

"But—but that means that you—"

"I know what it means, Roger. Believe me, I've thought about what it means."

"You had sex?"

Roger stared at her, completely dumbfounded. Maureen sank to the couch, looking from Mark to Roger and back.

"Look, would you both just stop? Yeah, Mark, we had sex. It was one time and we used a condom but apparently it broke. Roger, you're the only guy I've been with, the only person I've been with since Joanne died so unless this is a miraculous conception, yeah, it's yours. Now could you guys both stop freaking out? Please? I'm scared enough as it is."

Mark set the camera down on the coffee table and stared at her. Roger sat staring straight ahead. "It's okay, it'll be fine. We'll figure this out."

"I don't know what to do."

"Are you gonna keep it?" Mark asked.

Maureen nodded. "That much, I know. I'm keeping it. I'm having this baby and I'm keeping it."

"Did you tell the doctor…" Roger's voice trailed off.

"Yeah. He did a test for me. The results should be there in three weeks or so. He said, though, that since it was only once and we did use the condom, I'll probably be okay."

"But the condom broke," Mark said.

"I know. That's why he's testing me. The baby'll be tested at birth."

Roger's eyes filled with quiet tears. "So I'm gonna be…I'm-I'm gonna be a dad?"

Maureen nodded, trying to smile. "Yep."

"I don't…I…" Roger stammered for words, but instead crossed the room to Maureen, holding her hands in his. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because…I'm not going to…I won't be here…I—there's a chance…the baby…you…" Roger's tears spilled over his cheeks.

Maureen wiped at her own eyes. "Roger, it's okay. It'll be okay. I'll be fine and so will you."

"No, I won't. Don't you get it? I did the one thing I didn't want to do!"

"And what was that?"

"Fathered a kid that I'm not going to see grow up! Even if I'm still…even if I'm here when the baby's born…I—I'll be sick and I…I won't be there forever."

"I will," Mark said softly.

They both turned. They'd nearly forgotten that he was there. "You will?" Maureen asked.

Mark put a hand on her shoulder. "Always. Or as long as you want me around."

Maureen twisted around and sat up on her knees. She reached up to hug him, tears falling onto his sweater. "What about your life?"

"What about my life? Look around, Maureen, this is my life. My friends and my films."

"What if I get sick though? Or the baby? What if…what if the baby…"

"Then I'll take care of you. And the baby."

"You will?"

"I've taken care of Roger's sorry ass for years now, haven't I?"

Roger laughed, smacking Mark's head with the pillow. "Hey!"

After her tears stopped, Maureen stood and hugged Mark, kissing his cheek. "Thank you."


	3. Exactly What He Wants

**Disclaimer: **Characters and everything RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson

**Warnings: **Rated R for situations and language

**Author's Note:** The absence of certain Bohemians (Collins, Joanne, and Mimi) will be explained in future chapters. And the chapter titles are all (hopefully) going to be lines from the musical.

* * *

Three nights later, Maureen had to work the late-shift at the Life Café. Roger ordered takeout and had it waiting when Mark returned from filming his newest project. The filmmaker tossed his jacket onto the couch and set the camera down gingerly atop it.

"You cooked?"

Roger laughed. "Fuck no. Ordered out."

"Cool. Thanks."

"No problem."

Mark joined him at the card table and fixed himself a plate. As they ate, Roger looked up at him from time to time. Mark set his fork down.

"What?"

"Nothing," Roger said, taking a gulp of his beer.

"Roger, you've got that look on your face."

"What look?"

"That 'I have to ask you for something but I don't know how to' look."

Roger sighed. "You know me too well, Cohen."

A beeper sounded. Roger turned it off, then grabbed the AZT bottle from the counter and took it with water from the tap.

"What is it then?"

Roger sat back down and looked at him, studying his face. "I have to ask you for something."

"Told you so."

"I'm serious."

"Okay. What is it?"

"You, um, when you told Maureen that you'd take care of her and the baby, did you mean it?"

"Yeah, of course. She's the only woman I've ever loved. And the kid's part of you and her both so I'll look out for him or her too."

"I want…I have to ask you for a serious favor."

"You said that part already."

"It's the biggest favor I've ever asked of you."

"Roger, whatever it is, would you just ask for it already?"

"I want you to be the baby's father."

"What?"

"I want you to-"

"No, I heard you. But, just, um…the baby's already got a father, Rog. You."

"Yeah, biologically. But we both know I might not be here when the baby's born. Even if I am, I won't be around to see it grow up."

Mark felt tears stinging his eyes. "Rog…"

"No, I can't do this to a kid, Mark. I know it's asking a lot, but you have to do this for me. I don't want my baby to grow up without a father. I-I just…it's bad enough that I might've already given the kid a terminal disease. I don't want it to have no dad on top of that."

"Maureen…"

"Will be a great mom. But she can't be a dad. You can. I want us to talk to her. I want you to be the father. The only father he or she knows. Least until the kid's old enough to understand."

"But—"

Roger shook his head, refusing to cry again. "No buts, Marky. Either you do it or you don't. But please, I'm asking you as a friend, please, please, do this."

Mark hesitated. "You know….it's funny. After Angel died, I wondered why I was the one to witness everything. Angel, you, Mimi…everyone. I think this is why…so I can tell your child."

"Will you?"

Mark nodded, tears slipping out from beneath his glasses. "One condition though."

"What?"

"You write a letter. To the kid. After he or she's born, which I believe in my heart you will be here to see, then you write the kid a letter. Say whatever you want in it, I don't care and I won't read it. But one day I'm going to tell that child who his or her father is and they deserve to have something from you to them."


	4. Take Me Out

**Disclaimer: **Characters and everything RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson 

**Warnings: **Rated R for situations and language

**Author's Note:** The absence of certain Bohemians (Joanne, and Mimi) will be explained soon. And the chapter titles are all (hopefully) going to be lines from the musical. This chapter marks the first appearance of Collins:)

* * *

"December 14, 1992. Close in on Maureen Johnson, four months pregnant and still gorgeous as ever," Mark narrated.

"You know, you don't have to compliment me just 'cause I'm pregnant."

"Who says that's why I'm saying it?"

Maureen blushed. "Whatever, Pookie. Why don't you go stick the camera in Roger's face for a while?"

Roger shook his head as soon as Mark turned to him. "Seriously, Cohen, don't."

"Seriously, Davis, I'm not doing anything."

Roger threw a pillow at him and Mark had to duck. "Whoa! Roger has unusually good aim. Fortunately for me, my reflexes are better than his aim."

Maureen glanced at the clock. "Okay, we need to go out."

"Out where?"

"Don't care. I just have to get out of this damned loft."

"You have a doctor's appointment," Roger said.

"Yeah, I know, but it's not for another three hours and I'm bored."

"Pregnancy has only enhanced Maureen's ability to whine and nag," Mark said to the camera.

She stuck her tongue out at him and pouted.

"Hey, I got an idea," Roger said.

"Let's hear it."

"Let's go visit Collins. I mean, I know he just got home yesterday, but he should be unpacked and stuff."

"Yeah! I'm calling him! We're going!" Maureen announced, jumping to her feet.

"Collins. Tom Collins. Our old roommate and dear friend. He's a self-proclaimed anarchist and part-time professor. The last three months, he's been touring the country talking to kids about HIV and AIDS. Collins has AIDS and most people assume he got it from his homosexual lifestyle. Collins, in fact, got it from a blood transfusion following a horrible car accident nine years ago."

Mark stopped filming and let his camera hang around his neck.

"Why you filming so much? And with so much detail?" Maureen asked.

"Huh?"

"We all know who Collins is and how he got the virus. So what the hell's up with the full backstory?"

Mark shrugged.

Maureen rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Fine. Don't tell me."

"It's a surprise, okay?"

She smiled and kissed his cheek, then handed him the plaid jacket he wore everywhere. "Okay. Well, Collins is waiting."

They walked to the subway station, laughing and joking.

"So which appointment is this afternoon?" Roger asked.

"We find out what it is!" Maureen said with a giggle.

On the subway, Roger and Mark stood protectively on either side of Maureen. She laughed and sat down. "You two are impossible!"

"What?"

"You both look like you're standing guard."

"We are," Mark said.

Collins had already poured the wine when they arrived a half hour later. His eyes bulged as his gaze settled on Maureen's stomach.

"Look at you!"

"Yeah, look at me!" she laughed.

Collins pulled her into a bear hug. "How you feeling? Do you know what it is yet? You guys decide on a name yet? When are you do?"

"Collins, man, calm down," Roger said with a laugh.

"Great! Don't know yet, still deciding, and May 7!"

Roger and Mark waited for her to step aside before coming into Collins's apartment, each hugging him.

"How you feeling, Daddies?"

"Fine," Roger said.

"Good. You?"

"Great, actually. Nice to be home though."

They settled into the living room. Collins gave the guys their glasses of wine.

"Maureen, I've got coffee, tea….water, but it's kinda iffy sometimes…"

"Coffee would be great, Col. You want some help?"

"No, no, no. You sit yourself down there. I'll get it."

They heard him rummaging around the kitchen and Mark began rolling his camera. "We're now seated in the living room of Collins's apartment. He's fixing Maureen some coffee while Roger and I share some wine."

"Collins always tries to get us drunk," Roger said, intentionally raising his voice so Collins would hear.

"Wouldn't work if you two weren't such lightweights!" Collins laughed from the kitchen.

Roger sighed and sat back on the sofa. "You doing okay, Mo?"

"Yep. How about you?"

He nodded. "I'm good. I'm good."

They could see he was lying, but bring themselves to say so.


	5. Today For You

**Disclaimer: **Characters and everything RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson 

**Warnings: **Rated R for situations and language

**Author's Note:** The Joanne/Mimi explanations are coming soon! And the chapter titles are all (hopefully) going to be lines from the musical. Sorry this chapter's short. Kind of transitional.

* * *

On the way home, Mark stopped suddenly. Maureen and Roger recognized the look. Inspiration. "Hey, guys, I gotta go do something."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Um, I've been thinking—"

"Uh-oh," Maureen said.

"I'm serious. I think you two should go to this appointment alone. Don't argue with me, please. I'm going to be the father of this baby, but that doesn't make Roger any less important. Biologically speaking, this is your guys' baby. I want you guys to share this alone."

"Mark—"

"Roger, serious. Shut up. I want you guys to do this."

"I'll be at every other appointment. And there'll be other ultrasounds. This one, though, this one's for you two."

Maureen's eyes glittered with tears. "You sure, Mark?"

"Positive."

She hugged him tightly to her. "You're really sure about this?" she whispered in his ear.

"He needs this. And so do you. And you both deserve it," he whispered back.

Maureen stepped away and turned to Roger. Her tears spilled out. "You're still coming with me, right?"

"Of course….you mind if I talk to Mark a second though?"

"Sure, sure, go ahead."

Roger took Mark by the elbow. "Why you doing this?" he whispered as they stepped away from Maureen.

"Because."

"Not a reason."

"You deserve this, Rog. That baby is yours. I'll love it like my own and treat it like my own, but when push comes to shove, that baby is your child. Your only child. Today should be you and Maureen in that room. I'm going to be the father that baby's whole life. Today's your day."

"But—"

"You remember when we met Angel?"

Roger frowned. "Yeah, but what the hell…"

"Do you remember what she said? Today for you, tomorrow for me. That's what this is. Today's you, Rog. I get tomorrow."

Roger nodded, his eyes blinking back tears. "Thanks, man."

"No problem. Just, uh, don't cry. One hormonal woman in that loft is more than enough."

Roger laughed and punched his arm.


	6. You're One Lucky Baby

**Disclaimer: **Characters and everything RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson 

**Warnings: **Rated R for situations and language.

**Author's Note:** The absences of Joanne and Mimi are in the next chapter. And the chapter titles are all (hopefully) going to be lines from the musical. This chapter's a bit sappy/fluffy. Sorry, but I couldn't picture Roger taking a complete backseat on the whole pregnancy thing.

* * *

Maureen lay on the exam table, waiting for the doctor. Roger sat beside her. She shifted and concern washed over Roger's face. "You okay?"

"Huh?"

"You're all…fidgety. You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just…I'm kind of nervous."

"Nervous? Mo, it's just a checkup. It'll be fine."

"I know but….I don't know…it's like, I just, it's kind of just now hitting me. I mean, I-I'm having a baby."

"It's okay. It'll be great."

"Yeah, easy for you to say! You don't have to push a cantaloupe out your dick!"

The doctor opened the door at that moment, chuckling. Maureen blushed. "Well, I haven't heard it phrased that way before, but I do believe that would be an accurate comparison in terms of sizes and anatomy."

Dr. Forrester checked the charts and patted Maureen's hand. "And how are you feeling?"

"Um…okay…"

Dr. Forrester looked at Roger.

"She's a little nervous," he said.

The doctor nodded. "Perfectly normal. Looks like your vitals are good. Weight's good. How's your appetite?"

"Enormous."

The older man smiled and took a few notes. "Good…good…"

He took the stethoscope from around his neck and leaned over Maureen's stomach. She jumped when the cold metal touched her skin. After a minute, he smiled. "Would you like to hear, Dad?"

Roger frowned. "Hear what?"

"The heartbeat," the doctor said, handing over the stethoscope.

Roger glanced to Maureen. She nodded and reached for his hand. "Go on."

He slipped the stethoscope in his ears and watched the doctor move it around on Maureen's still fairly flat stomach.

"Hear anything?"

Roger listened for a minute and heard a faint thumping. His eyes filled with tears. He nodded. "I hear it! I hear it!"

He handed the stethoscope to Maureen so she could listen. The doctor smiled at Roger and patted his back.

"Sounds very healthy," he said.

Roger grinned, still holding Maureen's hand. She gave back the stethoscope, speechless.

"Would you two like to see the baby?"

"See…you mean, like an ultrasound?"

"Yes. You're far enough along that we should be able to see something and four months you're about due for one."

The doctor moved around the room, opening and closing a few drawers. He flipped on a machine and pulled out a jar. "This'll be a little cold, I'm afraid."

Maureen gasped. "Wow! Weren't kidding on that, were ya?"

"We'll be able to see the baby in just a moment, here. Let me see," Dr. Jacobs said. He took an instrument and pressed it to her stomach. Roger's eyes glued to the screen. It looked like a bunch of static. A small blur appeared on the screen. The doctor stopped moving and smiled. "Can you both see that? This little blur over here?"

They both nodded.

"That's your baby."

"That—that's the baby?" Maureen asked.

"I'll give you two a moment alone," he said, excusing himself.

Maureen's eyes filled with tears. She clutched Roger's hand. His eyes hadn't moved from the screen.

"Rog? You okay?"

"That's my baby. That's my baby," he whispered. Maureen reached out her free hand and brushed a few tears from his cheeks.

"Don't get all possessive. Baby's mine too," she teased.

Roger laughed through his tears, finally looking away from the machine. He buried his head in Maureen's shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered.


	7. Introductions

**Disclaimer: **Characters and everything RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson 

**Warnings: **Rated R for situations and language

**Author's Note:** The chapter titles are all (hopefully) going to be lines from the musical. Here it is--here's the Mimi and Joanne explanations. Quite a bit of drama in this one and more than a bit depressing.

* * *

Mark wandered into the cemetery, camera rolling. "Okay, Baby-Who's-Yet-to-be-Named, here we are. This is the cemetery. I'm hoping we won't have to take you here but there's some people here we want you to meet. Okay, that sounds morbid, I know but you should know them. They're good people."

Mark's feet moved to the first grave, not even having to glance at the headstones to know it was the right place. He knelt in front of it.

"Okay, here we are. Angel Dumott Schunard. Born June 7, 1962. Died October 29, 1990. Angel died of complications due to AIDS. She was Collins's lover. They met on the way to the loft after some guys jumped Collins for his coat. Angel took him home, cleaned him up…they were inseparable. Angel was, um, Angel was the most wonderful person you could imagine. She was everything kind and good and generous. Oh, I almost forgot. There's a quote on her stone, too. I don't know if you can read it. It says 'Today for you, tomorrow for me.' That was her motto. Angel spent every day of her short life taking care of other people, always saying she'd worry about herself tomorrow. She was completely selfless."

Mark spent a moment in silence, remembering Angel, and said a silent goodbye. He knew he'd return again soon. He tried to visit all of them at least once or twice a month. The next grave was Joanne's.

Mark took a deep breath. "Okay, buddy, here's the second person I want you to meet. Joanne Jefferson. Born September 9, 1960. Died January 4, 1991. She was killed in a car accident. There was a patch of black ice that this driver didn't see. He hit her head on…She was a lawyer. And one hell of a dancer. Especially tango. Joanne…Joanne was Maureen's girlfriend. They had a commitment ceremony, actually, so in our minds, Joanne was her wife. The ceremony was in September 1990, just before Angel…Okay, getting too depressing. Joanne was an amazing woman. She was smart and patient and compassionate."

He touched her headstone lightly, remembering how shocked they'd all been. Everyone braced themselves for death in their little family. But expected death. They knew Angel would get sick, that she'd die. They knew Mimi would get sick. They knew eventually Collins and Roger would follow. But not Joanne. Joanne was supposed to still be around. Mark shook his head and went to the grave beside it.

"Okay, last site, I promise. But every bit as important as the other two. Mimi Marquez-Davis. Born May 14, 1970. Died August 17, 1991. Mimi and Roger were married March 24th, 1991. Roger's still only HIV, even now. Mimi, though, she was already in full-blown AIDS when they got married. She died of complications from AIDS. She was a dancer. She was beautiful and vivacious, spirited, wild, impulsive…Mimi made Roger live. Really live."

Mark stopped rolling and set the camera down in the grass. Mimi's grave was always the hardest. Maybe because it was the newest….maybe because it had been so drawn out. Maybe….there were too many maybes. Mark wiped a tear from his cheek and stood up.

"I'll be back soon, Meems," he said.

With a last sigh, Mark picked himself up off the ground and carried the camera out of the cemetery.


	8. They Call Me

Maureen sat on the floor of the loft. A pile of books lay at her feet. Mark danced around the loft filming everything. Roger flipped through a book in the corner. He glanced up every few seconds to look at Collins. He'd gotten sick three weeks ago. Really sick. They decided to bring him back to the loft, much as he protested. Collins now sat propped up on the sofa, his makeshift bed since he refused to kick any of them out of their own bed.

Collins stared at them all and a small smirk played on his lips.

"What's so funny?" Mark asked from behind the camera.

"This is fucked up," he said with a small laugh.

"What?"

"Think about it. Five years ago we moved into this place. Me, Maureen, Mark, Benny. Then Benny moved out and Roger moved in. Then Mimi moved out and April moved in. Then April…and then I left…."

"Collins, you goin' somewhere with this?" Mark asked.

"All these years, all the bullshit we been through and here we are. Rooming together again. Only now Maureen's pregnant with Roger's baby," he said.

Maureen giggled. "It is kinda funny."

The other two gave in to the laughs and Mark set down the camera.

"Okay, so how sure was the doctor?"

"Hundred and nine percent," Maureen said.

"Boy. It's definitely a boy," Mark said.

"You better learn to throw a football, Cohen," Roger said.

Collins reached an arm down and picked up a book off the floor. "Damn, Maureen, these things all baby names?"

"Collins, a name is very important. It's what defines who we are."

"What about the whole 'rose by any other name' bit?"

"Shakespeare….well the guy's name was Shakespeare. Probably grew up being teased and called Shake-a-Spear or Shakes-and-Peer."

Collins laughed again. "Fair enough. You guys got any ideas?"

"Well I like Matthew," Mark said.

"Uh-uh, no way," Roger said.

"What? What's wrong with Matthew?"

"Too---normal."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "So you suggest…"

"Damon."

"No," Maureen said, shaking her head. Her eyes never left her book.

"What? Why not?"

"Because. You're not naming my kid something that sounds like Demon."

Roger laughed. "Guess that isn't such a good idea."

"How about…"

"David," Collins said.

They all looked up.

"David?"

"Yeah. David. Gives him a connection to both his dads."

Mark and Roger looked at each other, confused.

"Okay Col, even I'm not getting this one. How's that name connected to Mark and Roger?"

"David's a Jewish name."

"Okay."

"Roger Davis. The baby's Davis's son. Davison. Davidson. David."

Maureen smiled. "David. David…I like David."

Roger nodded slowly. "Yeah…yeah. It's a good name."

"Then that settles it. David."

"Now we need a middle name," Maureen said, flipping another page.

"What?"

"Oh come off it, you both know you have to give a kid a middle name."

"No you don't," Roger said.

"Yeah, you do. It's probably a law or something. Besides, I'm the mother. If I say he's got a middle name, he's got a middle name."

"Could come in handy if he gets in trouble," Collins said with a smile.

Roger and Mark laughed.

"Okay, so David….something that goes with David….David Austen?"

The men both shook their heads.

"David Paul?"

They stared blankly at her.

"Fine. Um….oh here! David Anthony."

"No, doesn't sound right," Mark said.

"David ….Adam?"

Roger shook his head.

"David Schunard," Mark said suddenly.

"Ooh! I like that! David Schunard Cohen….not quite complete though."

"How about David Bernard Schunard Cohen?" Roger said. Bernard was Collins's middle name.

"Bernard Schunard? That's sweet but are you tryin' to get the kid's ass kicked?" Collins asked.

Roger laughed. "Nah, guess you're right….How about David Michael Schunard Cohen?"

"Michael?" Mark asked.

"Your middle name, dumb ass," Roger said.

Mark threw him a mocking glare and laughed. "I don't know…"

"I do! I like it. Beautiful. David Michael Schunard Cohen," Maureen said.

"Quite a mouthful, though…David Michael Cohen," Collins said.

Maureen pouted. "But I want something from Angel—"

"Didn't she ever tell you?"

"Tell us what?"

Collins smiled. "Angel's given name was Michael. She didn't start goin' by Angel till she was sixteen."

"Perfect then! David Michael Cohen!" Maureen said, squealing in delight.


	9. When Your Heart Has Expired

Collins went into the hospital the first week of February. Maureen, six months pregnant, kept a vigil by his side. Roger carried in a cup of ice. She took it from him and held it to Collins's mouth. He licked at it weakly, then pushed it away.

"Mo, I gotta talk to you," he mumbled. "Get Roger outta here."

She nodded and turned to Roger. "Think we could get a second alone, Rog?"

His eyes met hers. They both knew why Collins would want to talk to them alone. Roger left quietly, hardly daring to breathe.

"It's time, Maureen," he said.

Her eyes filled with tears. "Collins…"

"Uh-uh, my turn to talk…You….you're gonna be a good mama….Don't be scared…" Collins had to take a deep breath before he could continue. "You're gonna be a good mama…Thank you."

"For what, sweetie?"

"For bein' the spirit of our family…Angel was the heart, but you…you were the spirit. And you always make people smile. You keep smiling, no matter what. Okay?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice to answer.

"It's okay. I…I get to see my Angel again…" he coughed. "I-I love you, girl."

"Love you too, baby."

Maureen squeezed his hand and leaned down to kiss his clammy forehead.

"Mark…and Roger…they'll be okay…tell 'em…tell 'em they'll be okay…tell 'em I said so. And…that I love…them both…"

Maureen's tears froze in her eyes. Collins reached up a frail hand to touch her stomach. She felt his hand on her belly and in the same instant, felt a kicking sensation. The baby. It was the first time she'd felt the baby move. She smiled and looked down at Collins. He smiled and gave her a wink. His eyes closed. Maureen's smile faded as his breathing grew more and more shallow, then stopped.

"Collins? Collins?"

The heart monitor sent out a steady tone. Its little green line stopped jumping. A nurse rushed in and checked his stats, then looked at the clock.

"I'm sorry," she said. "He's gone."


	10. Numb

Maureen backed out of the room, shaking her head. She stopped when she hit someone behind her.

"Maureen? You okay?" Mark asked.

Maureen turned and shook her head. Mark glanced into the room. The color drained from his face. He stared at the nurse, then at Collins. The nurse shook her head. Mark echoed the motion and slid his arms around Maureen's shoulders. She didn't cry, but clung to Mark. The filmmaker turned and moved Maureen to the side of the hallway.

Roger stepped off the elevator, a cup of coffee in each hand. Mark hated the stuff but Roger and Maureen drank it all the time. He froze when he saw them in the hallway. Maureen's head was buried in Mark's chest, his arms folded around her. Roger tried not to panic. They were just hugging. It didn't mean anything. He ignored his thudding heart and suddenly dry throat and forced himself towards them.

Mark's gaze met Roger's. Mark bit his lip, blinking back tears. Roger's eyes widened. He shook his head and turned to Collins's room, refusing to believe what Mark's eyes told him. The nurse leaving the room paused and patted Roger's arm.

"I'm so sorry, dear," she said.

Roger dropped the cups, coffee splashing on the floor and bouncing up to stain his jeans. He dashed into the room, ignoring the voices begging him not to.

Collins lay under the crisp white sheet. The nurse had pulled it up over him. Roger took a shaky breath and pulled the sheet back, hoping and praying that someone other than Collins lay beneath it. Collins's face froze in peace, his eyes closed. Roger's hands went over his mouth as the tears sprang to his eyes. He shook his head, feeling suddenly nauseous.

"No, no…" he mumbled.

Roger backed up to the wall and sank to the ground, tears covering his face. He couldn't tear his eyes from Collins's lifeless body. Instead, Roger sat still until the nurse returned and helped him to his feet. He shook off her hand when she tried to lead him out. She watched as Roger knelt at Collins's bedside, hands clasped together.

"Sir, I'm sorry—"

"No! Don't say that! He's fine! He's—he's just sleeping! He's fine!"

The nurse bit her lip and stood quietly by. Roger choked back a sob. "Collins, please….please, man…you gotta open your eyes….you can't—you can't die…please! Collins…"

The nurse excused herself, blinking back her own tears at the stranger's heartfelt pleas. Mark saw her leaving.

"Ex-excuse me, miss. Is—is, um, Rog-Roger…the man who went in there…"

The nurse frowned. "He's…he's very distraught. He doesn't believe that your friend is gone….I would suggest that you go to him."

Maureen pulled away from Mark, shock still gleaming in her eyes. "She's right. Go to him," she said.

Mark nodded and returned to the hospital room. Roger was on his knees beside Collins's bed, still pleading with Collins. Mark put a hand on his shoulder and felt Roger stiffen.

"Rog, he's—"

"No! He's not! Don't say that! Stop saying that!"

Mark grabbed Roger's arm and forced him to his feet, both of them surprised by Mark's strength. "Roger, look at me."

Roger kept his eyes on Collins, waiting for some movement.

"Roger," Mark said in a stern voice.

Roger tore his eyes away and looked at Mark.

"He's gone," Mark whispered.

"He's gone," Roger echoed. "He's gone?"

"Let's go home, Roger," Mark said.

Roger followed numbly behind him. They found Maureen in the hallway. She gave the nurse their names and phone number and asked the nurse to call later to take care of the paperwork. Roger stared ahead, blinded by his own tears. Maureen stood between him and Mark. She kept her arm locked around Mark and clutched Roger's hand with her other.

The three made their way back to the loft. None of them said what they were all thinking. They were the only ones left. Everyone else was gone. And sooner or later, Roger would go too.


	11. This Family

**Note: **_Thanks so much for all the positive reviews! Glad you guys are liking it. These next two chapters are a bit of a tangent in that it shifts focus away from Maureen/Roger/Mark, but it's just so we can have a lil Collins backstory and bring Benny back into the loop. Enjoy! And please keep reviewing! _

* * *

Maureen took it upon herself to find Collins's family. They deserved to know what happened to them. He'd never mentioned family much, only a brother he mentioned from time to time. Maureen wasn't even sure he was a real brother. He called Mark and Roger his brothers too.

"Mo, I really wish you'd stop. You gotta take it easy."

"I'm fine, Mark."

"Will you at least lay on the couch with this stuff?" Mark asked.

She looked up from her spot on the floor and nodded with some reluctance. Mark knelt to pick up the box of papers and carried it into the living room. He set it beside the couch and hurried back to help Maureen.

"Pookie, I'm fine. I'm pregnant, not crippled," she said.

Mark ignored her and helped her along anyway. Maureen glanced outside and saw Roger sitting on the fire escape. After she was settled, a throw pillow propping her up, Maureen ordered Mark outside.

"Make sure he's okay."

"Maureen, one of his best friends just—"

"I'm well aware of what happened. I just don't want Roger doing anything stupid. He gets impulsive sometimes."

"Look who's talking," Mark said with a small smile.

Maureen rolled her eyes and leaned down to pick up the first few papers. She heard Mark step out onto the fire escape and sighed.

Two hours later, Maureen was still shuffling through papers. Her eyes widened as she read one. She sat up, swinging her legs down. Maureen dropped the paper in her lap and quickly skimmed over the next papers in the stack.

Maureen jumped up and went to the phone. Mark and Roger came in from the fire escape, both shivering.

"Hi Mu—Allison…Maureen…Yeah, yeah. Oh thank you….yeah, I'm excited too….boy…tossing around ideas….listen, Allison, I really need to talk to Benny. He around?"

Mark frowned and looked at Roger. The musician shrugged.

"Yeah, hey….look, I'm got a question and I want a straight answer. Was—is Collins related to you?...you need to come over. Now….the loft… Okay."

"You invited him over?" Roger asked with a groan.

"He and Collins were brothers."


	12. What Happened to Benny?

**Note: **_Okay here's the Collins/Benny backstory. I can't decide if I want to keep Benny in or not. Review and let me know if you want to see more of him._

**Disclaimer:**_ Still don't own the characters. They're property of Jonathan Larson and estate._

* * *

Roger grabbed his guitar and headed back to the fire escape. He stopped short. "Mark, gimme the keys. He's here."

"That was fast."

Roger shrugged. "Must've been in the neighborhood."

"Hey Benny! Catch!" Roger called as he dropped the keys.

A few minutes later, the loft door slid open. Maureen started a pot of coffee, sensing it was going to be a long night. Mark and Roger stood shuffling for a minute before Roger shut the window.

"Hey," Benny said.

"Hi," Mark said. Roger nodded to him but wouldn't look at him.

"So what's up?"

"Why didn't you tell us he was your brother?" Maureen asked.

Benny sank down to sit on one of the stools at the table. He shrugged. "What'd he tell you guys?"

Mark looked away. Roger headed for his room. Maureen put a hand on his chest and shook her head. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but joined Benny at the table.

"Well? What did he tell you?" Benny asked again.

"He didn't," Mark said.

"Then how'd you guys….where is he? He sick? Where is he?"

"He's dead," Roger mumbled.

"What?"

"Dead. He's dead."

Benny's eyes widened. He rested his elbows on the table and let his head fall to his hands. Mark waited a minute before breaking the silence. "Benny? You okay?"

"When?"

"This morning."

"Was he alone?"

Maureen gave a small smile, her eyes glittering with tears. "I was with him. He wasn't alone."

Benny nodded.

"So what? What's the deal? You guys never once said you were brothers or mentioned even being related. Then Maureen finds….wait. What did you find?" Mark asked.

"Birth certificate. Said his father was Benjamin Coffin II."

Benny nodded. "Half brother. He, my dad, had an affair with my mom."

"Did you guys know?"

"After my mom got pregnant, the old man left Collins and his mother. Later on, when I got older, Collins's mom died. I was, like, eight. Don't remember what happened to her. So Collins came to live with us. He was eleven that summer."

"Why didn't you guys tell us?" Roger asked.

"When, uh, when I was a sophomore in high school, Collins came out. Parents threw him out, cut him off entirely."

"And so you did too?"

"God, Roger, give me some credit. He's my brother. I tried to keep in contact with him but my parents threatened to kick me out. Collins could make it on his own. He was almost nineteen, planning on leaving soon anyway. I was fifteen years old! What the hell was I supposed to do?"

"How about grow a goddamn backbone? How about stick up for people you care about? How about—"

Benny stood up. "Look, I've told you what happened. I listened to my parents until I went away to school. The minute I left that house I started looking for him. I spent three months wandering Santa Fe because one time he mentioned that it seemed like a cool place. I spent every dime I could, every minute I could, looking for him. When I finally found him, when I finally saw him again, it was too late. He thought the same thing: I'd abandoned him."

"Sounds to me like you did," Roger said, ignoring the warning glances from Mark and Maureen.

"Maybe I did, but…shit…I was fifteen fucking years old! I didn't know what else to do! I'm not like you, Roger! I can't just do whatever the fuck I please and not care what it does to others. I made a decision. Yeah, it was the wrong one but nothing I do now can change it. So fine, I'm the asshole, I'm the screw-up, I'm whatever the hell you want. I'm leaving….Maureen, call me if you guys need anything at all and please let me know if you need to know anything or whatever. And please tell me when the funeral is."

Mark and Maureen stood in silence as Benny left. Roger stormed into his room and shut the door, not quite slamming it. Mark picked up his camera.

"I'm gonna go film."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I'll be back soon."

Maureen nodded and went to Roger's door. She knocked lightly. "Roger?"

There was no answer, so she tried the door. It was open. Roger lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling. Maureen sighed and sat beside him.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

"Don't lie to me, Rog."

"Who says I'm lying?"

"I do. I know you well enough to know when you're lying."

Maureen stared down at him, noticing the tears in his eyes. "What is it?"

"Huh?"

"This about anybody in particular?"

"He lied."

"Who?"

"Benny. He just sat there and lied to our faces. Collins is dead and even now he can't respect him."

"Honey, what could he have lied about?"

"He didn't look for Collins. Not once. After we moved into the loft, when we first met, I helped him find Benny. That son of a bitch said he didn't have a brother. Mark moved him into the loft six months later. They'd roomed together in college."

"And did Benny say anything then?"

"No. Collins did. I told him I hadn't been able to find his brother and that it was a coincidence that this guy had the same name."

"Roger, Collins wasn't stupid."

"I know. He knew the only reason I'd say I couldn't find Benny would've been because Benny wanted nothing to do with him. So fine, Collins pretended they'd never met and avoided him at all costs."

"Poor Collins."

"No shit. Only reason I didn't beat the hell out of Benny was because Collins made me promise not to. Even after all the shit that went down….even after Benny…he still looked out for him."

Maureen nodded. "That's why he always got so quiet when we talked shit about Benny…"

Roger nodded again.

"We can't change what happened, Rog. All we can do is remember Collins. Remember people that loved Collins and showed that love."

Roger nodded. Maureen dipped her head down and gave a small kiss to his closed lips. When she pulled back, a single tear streaked out of the corner of his eye.

"We can't," he mumbled.

Maureen wiped the tear. "I know."

He thought she'd get up and leave. Instead, Maureen lay down beside him, her head on his chest. His arms slid around her, cautious and timid. She stayed still until she thought he was asleep. When her tears spilled onto his shirt, she didn't dare to look up at him. If she had, she would've seen his tears falling too.


	13. A Small, Lovely Kiss

**Note:**_ Okay this chapter's a bit of fluffy sappy Maureen/Roger. Didn't plan on them staying together, but it's getting a positive response so we'll see where it goes. Please review. Enjoy!_

**Disclaimer:**_ Belongs to Jonathan Larson, musical genius extraordinaire, and his estate._

* * *

Roger felt Maureen's breathing slow and eased his arm away from her. When she didn't wake up, he shifted slightly. The action slipped her head from his chest to his pillow. Roger stared down at her. _She's so beautiful. She's so beautiful and she's carrying my baby._ Roger bit his lip, shaking his head at the irony: a beautiful woman was carrying his child and he knew he could never be with her.

Maureen's lids fluttered and she opened her eyes slowly. "Roger? Where you going?"

"I'll take the couch tonight. You go back to sleep," he said as he slipped out of his tee-shirt.

"Rog, don't be stupid. Get back in bed," she hoped he didn't hear the pleading in her voice.

"But…"

"I'm tired and pregnant. Don't argue with me, please. Just get back in bed."

Roger hesitated and climbed back into bed. "Night, Mo."

"Night," she said, rolling over.

Maureen held her breath, praying for his arms to slide around her again. They didn't.

* * *

Roger woke first. He stared up at the ceiling and tried not to think of Maureen. He tried not to think of the baby she was carrying, of how much he wanted to see that baby. Maureen rolled over onto her back and yawned as her eyes opened.

"Morning," she mumbled.

"Morning. Want coffee?" he asked, jumping from bed.

"Sure, that'd be nice."

In the kitchen, Mark already had a pot waiting. Roger poured two mugs.

"Morning," Mark said.

"Morning. How'd filming go?"

"Oh, it was okay. You guys were passed out before I got home."

"That wasn't what it looked like. Nothing happened."

"Rog, you don't have to explain anything. You were both fully clothed," Mark said with a laugh.

Roger blushed. "I just didn't want you to think…"

Mark raised an eyebrow. "What difference would it make? I'm not with her."

"I know…but there's, I mean, it's not like that with Maureen and I."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

"There's not. There can't be. There's not."

"Roger, calm down. It's fine. I know nothing happened. Go bring her some coffee and take your AZT. I've got to go meet someone."

"Who?"

Mark frowned and looked embarrassed. "Buzzline."

"Mark! That show—"

"Rog, I'll explain later, okay? Just, I gotta go."

Roger nodded and picked up the coffee mugs. He carried them back to the room. Maureen sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Roger set the cups on the nightstand, shaking his head at her.

"Uh-uh. Stay there," he said. Maureen smiled as he lifted her legs back onto the bed. She took one of the cups and shivered as she took a sip.

"Nice and hot," she said.

"Mark made it." Roger stood by the bedside for a minute and then picked up his own mug and headed for the door.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"I was going to—"

"If I have to stay in bed, the least you can do is keep me company," she said with a teasing frown.

Roger sighed, smiling, and sat on the bed beside her. "You, uh, you sleep okay?"

"Yeah….you?"

"Yep."

Maureen's eyes widened and she let out a laugh. "Oh! Oh my God! Roger! Oh my God!"

She set the mug down on the nightstand.

"What? What is it?" he asked, leaning over her to set his own mug down.

"The baby!"

Roger's face fell. "What is it? Something wrong? Should I call the doctor?"

"No, no, I can feel him! He's kicking!"

"What?"

Maureen seized his hand and laid it on her stomach. "There! Feel that?"

Roger smiled. "I…yeah…that's—that's him?"

"That's him!"

"That's him! He's kicking!" Roger laughed.

Maureen giggled and decided not to tell Roger that the baby had kicked before. He deserved this. He deserved to be there the first time his baby kicked. She kept her hand over his on her belly even after the baby stopped kicking.

Roger looked down at her. Without moving his hands, Roger leaned down and kissed her gently, first on the forehead and then her lips. She brought her hand up to his cheek and smiled. His stubble scratched at her hand. He turned his head so her hand now covered his mouth. Kissing her open palm, Roger pulled back.

"I'm sor—"

Maureen's hand was over his mouth again. "Don't. Don't apologize, okay? I…just don't be sorry."

Roger nodded, kissed her cheek, and left. Maureen lay in his bed and sighed. When she heard him go out to the fire escape, she pulled the blankets up around her. They smelled like him. She smiled and closed her eyes, drifting back to sleep.


	14. You Okay?

Mark didn't have a meeting. He didn't want to be in the loft. He didn't want to be anywhere. Wandering the darkening streets, Mark filmed a few shots. He passed the cemetery. A figure knelt at Mimi's grave. After spending at least a few hours every week at the cemetery, Mark was confident he could point out the exact locations of his friends' resting places on a satellite photo. He approached slowly, curious to learn the visitor's identity.

The trees at the edge of the cemetery hid him from view. Peering around the corner, Mark realized the figure was a man. At first, he'd thought the visitor was Mimi's mother, maybe one of her sisters. This person was too big to be them. Definitely a man. The man raised his head and Mark held his breath.

Benny knelt with one hand on Mimi's headstone. His other hand clutched a small bouquet of yellow tulips. Mimi's favorite. Mark debated about approaching him, but decided not to when he heard Benny's tears.

In all the years Mark had known him, Benny had never been a crier. The rare occasions when he did cry, the tears were stoic and silent. This was different. Mark heard the tears before he saw Benny shaking from them. The anger and resentment Mark felt at the secrets and the way Benny treated them disappeared. He went towards Benny and reached him just as the businessman was standing to leave.

"Benny?"

Benny snapped to attention, wiping his tears with the back of his hands. "Mark, hey."

"You okay, man?"

"Fine. I'm fine."

"You sure? I mean, I know I'm probably not your favorite person to talk to but, um…"

"Mark, I'm okay. But thanks."

Benny managed a small smile and turned on his heel, leaving Mark alone with his camera. Mark hesitated and turned the opposite direction, stopping at Angel's grave. He sat with Angel in silence, thinking.

"What the hell am I supposed to do, Angel? I know….I know they're falling for each other….but she….if she gets sick…."

"_Marky, you worry too much…" _

Angel's voice came back to him with such clarity that Mark sprang to his feet, whirling around. He'd half-expected Angel to come out from the shadows. Mark shook his head sadly, knowing he was still alone.

Roger finished his coffee in the living room and left the mug in the sink. He shivered and realized he'd left his sweatshirt in the bedroom. He'd taken it off before bed last night. Taking a deep breath, Roger eased open the door.

Maureen lay sound asleep in the bed. Her hair fell over her face like a veil. She shivered lightly under the blankets. Roger instinctively moved them up tighter around her. He reached one hand out and brushed her hair from her face. A gentle smile

played on her lips. Roger pulled his hand away slowly. Roger stared down at her and reached a conclusion that broke his heart: she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He tiptoed out of the room and was nearly at the fire escape before he realized he'd forgotten the sweatshirt again. He shivered and went out without it. Roger didn't trust himself to go back in there.


	15. Just Came to Say Goodbye

They buried Collins two days later. His parents refused to attend, prompting Maureen to scream at them for fifteen minutes, until they hung up. Roger draped his leather jacket over one arm. Neither owned a suit. Maureen emerged from the bathroom in a loose skirt that fell to the floor and a dark sweater.

They'd all agreed that they wanted to speak at the funeral. Mark went first.

"Collins…Collins was one of a kind. Self-proclaimed anarchist. I remember one time, he'd disappeared for months and showed up one day on the doorstep full of wild stories about how he'd backpacked through Europe on a whim and ran naked through the Parthenon…that's how Collins was. He did what he wanted and what he knew was right and didn't care what anyone thought of it…"

Maureen followed Mark.

"Collins, my friend, my fellow protestor, my mentor, my philosopher…I-I don't know what I can say. You were more…more than any of us deserved. Even-even after Angel went, you brought spirit and laughter back to our family. You held us together. You…I love you, Collins."

Maureen stepped down, tears clouding her eyes. Roger wrapped his jacket around her shoulders and took her place in front.

"Collins…Thomas...I can't…I loved you like a brother."

Roger returned to Maureen and Mark. They listened as a few of the members of Life Support said their goodbyes and shared their memories. When the last speaker was done, Benny stood and made his way up the aisle from the back. Roger glared at him and moved to stand up. Maureen put a hand on his wrist.

"Don't," she whispered, "not today."

Roger stayed seated and waited for Benny to say something.

"Collins was my brother. Not in a friends-like-brothers way. Flesh and blood. He was three years older than me. He, uh…he left home his senior year of high school. He left because our parents were ignorant and homophobic. And because I was too selfish to stop him. I –I can't explain away all the wrongs I did…can't explain away any of them. All I can do is say I'm sorry, Collins. For what's it's still worth, I'm sorry. And I love you. I'm sorry I wasn't a better brother."

Benny strode out of the church, tears flowing down his cheeks, without waiting for anyone.

They buried Collins in an empty plot beside Angel. It felt right. They were together again.


	16. Should Tell

Mark waited until Maureen had gone to the store to say anything to Roger. The songwriter sat on the ledge by the window, penning new lyrics into a beat-up notebook. Mark filmed him for a minute before setting the camera down.

"Roger, we need to talk."

"Why? You breaking up with me?" he teased.

Mark gave a small smile. "Very funny. I'm serious. There's, um, look I'm just going to say this. You and Maureen should be together."

Roger's eyes flicked around the room nervously. He dropped the notebook. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you and Maureen. You both deserve to be happy."

"Mark, she and I aren't—"

"Aren't what? A couple? May as well be. In love? Yes, you are. You're both just too damned stubborn to admit it."

Roger blushed and backed away from Mark. "We're not. We're just friends."

"Roger, I'm not trying to start a fight, okay? I just want to say that I'm okay with it. You and Maureen should be happy. And before you even bring it up, use a condom or don't have sex, but admit that you love each other."

Mark picked up his camera and moved past Roger to the door. "I'll be back."

When Maureen returned, Roger helped her with the groceries in silence. He didn't know what to think of Mark's words. Sure, he was falling for Maureen. It never occurred to him that she could fall for him. Women like Maureen didn't fall for men like Roger. Then again, Roger usually didn't fall for women like Maureen.

"Rog, you okay?"

"Huh?"

"I asked you where Mark is, like, four times and you've just got this weird look on your face. Are you okay?"

"Oh…um…yeah, yeah I'm okay."

"So where is he?"

"Who?"

Maureen laughed. "Mark. Skinny blonde guy, glasses, carries a camera around everywhere."

"Oh. Sorry. He, um, he didn't say where he was going. Just said he'd be back."

"You two get in a fight?"

"No. What makes you think that?"

She shrugged. "Seems like Mark always tells us where he's going unless he's pissed. Since I wasn't here, process of elimination leaves you."

"No, no…at least I don't think so. We, um, we were just talking. Well, it was more like Mark talking and not listening to me. And then he grabbed his camera and said he'd be back and left."

Maureen frowned. "Weird. I'm sure he's fine though."

"Yeah…" Roger picked up the notebook and pen and went to his room.

Maureen continued to empty the bags, wondering what had gotten into the two of them. She answered the phone on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Maureen, hey. Did you talk to Roger?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, he didn't seem to want to say anything. What happened? Where are you?"

"Nothing happened. I'm on my way to Scarsdale to visit the parents until you two get your heads together."

"About what?"

"Ask Roger."

Mark hung up before Maureen could ask anything more. She turned over the conversation in her head a few times before deciding both men had definitely lost their minds. Crossing to Roger's room, she was glad to see it open. He was sitting on the bed, one knee bent, hunched over his notebook. He looked up when she came in. She smiled and resisted the urge to brush his hair from his eyes.

"That was Mark."

"Oh. What, uh, what'd he want?"

"To see if you told me what you guys talked about."

Roger shifted uncomfortably. He slipped the notebook into the nightstand and shrugged. "He say where he was?"

"Yeah. On the way to visit his parents in Scarsdale. And staying there until you and I, in his words, get our heads together."

"Scarsdale?"

"Yeah and Mark hates visiting his parents, so you have about five seconds to start talking."

Roger hesitated. "He said, um…he said that, uh, you and me…that you and me should-should be happy."

"Okay…"

"And that we should be together," Roger said, blushing as soon as he'd said it.

"We should…as in you and I…"

Roger tried to ignore the stab of pain in his heart. "I know, stupid, right? Mark's idea. He wouldn't drop it. I tried to tell him it was stupid but he just…I know you don't feel that way so I…fuck, nevermind, okay? Forget I said anything."

Roger jumped and ran to the staircase, reached the rooftop before Maureen processed what he'd said.


	17. Dancing Her Dance

Roger paced the rooftop, knowing Maureen couldn't follow him. The staircase was too much this far into the pregnancy. She had a hard enough time making it to the loft. Roger sighed and finally sank down, leaning against the brick wall lining the roof. He couldn't shake the image of her face when he'd told her what Mark said. She didn't smile, she didn't giggle or agree. The wind on his cheeks made the tears sting that much more. He made a mental note to kick Mark's ass when he got home and dried his eyes with his sleeve.

Down in the loft, Roger found Maureen still sitting on his bed. She hadn't moved a muscle. Granted, he'd only been gone ten minutes, but for Maureen's energy that was more like an hour. He sat down quietly beside her, not touching her or speaking. Only when he dared to glance up at her did he realize she was crying. Why was she crying?

"Maureen? What's the matter? I'm sorry I freaked. I just…I know you don't feel that way so I got freaked out and I was afraid you'd think…or that you'd know that…"

Roger stopped when she kissed him.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because it's easier than saying it."

Roger nodded and stared at his jeans. "You think, um….do you think Mark's right?"

"About us being together?"

He nodded again.

"What do you think?"

Roger lifted his gaze to the wall, but couldn't bring himself to look at Maureen. "I think there's no way in the world that I'm that lucky."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning I'm a fuck-up. Look at me, Maureen. I hurt everyone I get close to. I've screwed up every relationship I've ever been in. And part of me wants to think this'd be different, but I'm not so sure."

"Roger, name one normal relationship I've had in the time I've known you."

"Mark."

"Mark? The Mark I cheated on repeatedly and left for a woman?"

Roger gave a small smile. "Okay. Guess that wasn't so normal."

"We're both fucked up, Davis."

He nodded. "But only one of us is dying."

Maureen grabbed his shoulder, turning him to look at her. "Okay, enough of this bullshit."

"What bullshit?"

"This dance-around-the-subject, pretend-we're-talking-about-something-else bullshit. I'm in love with you and while it probably seems like the pregnancy hormones making me psycho or whatever, it's not. I love you and I really don't give a fuck about anything else."

Roger stared at her and shook his head. "You don't love me, Mo."

"What the hell is your problem?"

"What?"

"Don't tell me I don't love you."

"You don't love me and I don't love you."

"Fuck you," she muttered. She ran to Mark's room before he could stop her. He followed behind and tried to open the door. It was locked.

"Maureen, open the door." No response. "Maureen, come on! I'm sorry—we have to talk about this."

"No, we don't."

Shit. She was crying again. He could hear it in her voice. In the years they'd known each other, Roger had grown to know Maureen almost better than he knew himself. No way in hell was she opening that door while he was on the other side of it. He grabbed his jacket off the table and knocked on the door.

"I'm going for a walk. You okay here?"

"I'm fine."

He blinked back tears at her hardened tone. She didn't love him, did she? She loved that he was the father of her child, maybe, but she didn't truly love him. Roger stepped onto the street and headed to the Life Café.


	18. Can't Believe This

When Maureen was certain she'd heard Roger shut the door to leave the loft, she waited another five minutes before unlocking the door. She glanced around to make sure he was gone. The baby kicked at her stomach and she winced.

"Calm down, baby. Didn't mean to upset you…Mommy's just having a hard time right now."

She rubbed her stomach gently as she whispered to the baby. After a few minutes, she felt the baby relax. As she made her way to the sofa, though, a sharp pain doubled her over. Maureen gripped the back of the couch. What the hell was wrong with her? An instant later, the pain was gone. She sat carefully on the couch, trying to read the book Mark had left there. Another pain shot through her. She cried out and realized what it was. Contractions.

Roger was almost to the café before he turned around. He couldn't do this. He couldn't pretend and act like he didn't love Maureen. He couldn't just sit in the café and act like everything was normal when he knew she was up in the loft crying. Roger ran back to the loft, wanting to hurry before he lost his nerve. He stopped when he heard her scream, then ran faster.

"Maureen! Maureen, what's wrong?" he shouted as he bolted in.

Maureen lay on the couch doubled over. Her hands clutched her stomach. Oh God. "Roger?"

"I'm here, I'm here. What's wrong? What happened?"

She relaxed and leaned back. "I-I think I'm having labor pains."

"You're not due for, like, three months."

"Tell that to the baby."

"Shit." He ran for the phone.

"What the hell are you doing?" Maureen asked as he dialed.

"Calling the doctor…Hi, I need to speak with Dr. Forrester now. It's sort of an emergency….Doctor, it's Roger Davis. Maureen Johnson's…the father of Maureen Johnson's baby? She's in labor…we think…I don't know, she's having contractions but she's not…yeah?...Well, yeah, a few minutes before…hang on…"

"Mo? How far apart are the contractions?"

She glanced at her watch. "I don't know. First ones were, like, four minutes apart, but then it was like seven and..."

"It's varying….oh? No, no we didn't know that…Okay, okay, and in the meantime … Right. Okay…yes of course. Thank you, doctor."

"Well?"

"False labor," he said, sighing.

"This sure as hell doesn't feel false." As if on cue, another contraction hit, doubling her over again. Tears stung her eyes. "Shit!"

"The doctor said women at this stage of pregnancy sometimes start having contractions if they're really stressed out or upset. Especially by arguments and that sort of stuff."

Maureen nodded. "So what am I supposed to do?"

"Absolutely nothing. Bed-rest until we get you in to see the doctor and make sure everything's okay. And if the contractions get more regular, we're going to the hospital."

"Okay," she said, relaxing again.

Roger bit his lip, turning it bright red. "Come on, let me help you to bed."

Maureen hesitated, but accepted his hand and let him help her along. She was surprised when he guided her to his room, but said nothing. Roger waited for her to lie down and pulled the blanket up over her. He brushed the hair from her forehead.

"You okay?"

"Ye—ow! Damn it!"

She leaned forward and grabbed Roger's hand, squeezing it hard. He kept his other hand on her back. The silence hung in the air until she'd relaxed again.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think so. That was, like, five minutes."

"Okay. Do you need anything? Water? Tea? More blankets?"

"Some water maybe?"

Roger went to the kitchen and came back with the water. Maureen took a small sip and set it down on the nightstand. "Roger?"

"Yeah?"

"Look about—"

"Let's talk about it later. You need to rest. For you and the baby."


	19. I Need to Go

Maureen gasped.

"Another one?"

Roger eyed the clock on the nightstand. It had only been four minutes since the last one. Maureen held his hand tighter than before. He smoothed her hair back. "It's okay…it's okay."

Maureen relaxed and looked at Roger. "That was four minutes. And stronger."

Roger nodded, trying to stay calm. "Okay, well let's just wait a minute. Just stay calm."

The next contraction didn't come for eight minutes and was duller than the one before. Roger smiled. "See? It's okay. Getting better, right?"

She nodded.

"So you'll be fine. It's okay."

Roger leaned forward to hug her. She clenched his hand. Hard. "Oh God! Roger! Shit! Damn it! It hurts!"

Roger pulled her into his arms, glancing at the clock. Three minutes? He rubbed her back, trying to keep her calm. "It's okay, Mo. Just keep breathing, babe. It's okay."

She fell back against the pillow. Tears danced in her eyes. "That did not feel like it's okay."

"Doctor said that as long as they're not at regular intervals, it's probably false labor."

"Probably? Roger, I really don't know that we should listen to a doctor that says it's 'probably' false labor."

"Maureen, calm down. He said—he didn't say probably. That was me."

She opened her mouth to say something but groaned instead. "Another one."

"As bad as before?" Roger asked, looking at the clock.

"No, not quite."

"Okay, Maureen, I want you to stay calm, okay?"

"I'm trying to!"

"I know, babe, I know," he said, taking her into his arms again. When her breathing evened, Roger pulled away. "Better?"

"Mmhmm."

"Roger!" He glanced at the clock when she screamed. Shit, two minutes.

"Okay, I'm here! I'm here," Roger said. He grabbed the phone off the nightstand.

"Who the hell are you calling now?"

Roger held her hand instead of answering. "Yes, um, my name's Roger Davis. My friend's six months pregnant and we think she's going into labor…yeah, I was going to but…look, they're two minutes apart an—the doctor said that too…yeah but now they are regular…no, not yet…okay, okay, thanks. Yeah. Avenue A. The old publishing building. Top loft."

Roger hung up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "It's okay."

"Roger, it's too soon for the baby to—"

"Maureen, listen to me. You need to stay calm. This doesn't mean the baby's coming now. It's okay. Just keep breathing."

Maureen held Roger's hand to her cheek. "Don't leave me, okay?"

"Of course not."

"I'm serious, Roger."

"So am I. I'm not leaving."

There was a knock at the door. "That's the paramedics. I'm coming right back."

Maureen nodded.

* * *

An hour later, Roger paced the waiting room alone. The doctors said they couldn't allow anyone back with her, father or not. He went to the payphone and dialed Mark's parents' house. Mr. Cohen answered on the first ring.

"Cohen house-"

"Mr. Cohen, Roger Davis. I need to talk to Mark right now. It's an emergency."

An instant later, Mark was on the phone. "Roger? What's going on?"

"She's in labor."

"What?"

"Labor. I don't know. Maybe false labor? There's, um, the doctor said it was false labor because they weren't regular and then they got regular and now she's back with the doctors and they won't let me back or anybody else and—"

"Where are you?"

"The hospital."

"No shit. Which one?"

"Queens."

"I'm leaving now."


	20. Could Be Good for You

Mark ran down the hallway a half hour later only to find Roger pacing the waiting room, running his hands through his hair. He looked like a tiger in a cage, waiting to pounce on the first thing that gets too near. When he saw Mark, his pacing stopped. He went to him quickly and hugged him tight.

"How is she?"

"I don't know. They haven't told me any—"

"Excuse me," a doctor said, addressing the waiting room. "Roger Davis. I need to speak with a Roger Davis."

"Here. Me. That's me."

"Okay. Mr. Davis, you're the father of Maureen Johnson's baby?"

"Yeah, yeah. How is she? How's the baby? Are they okay?"

"She's fine. We believe the baby's fine too but I want an ultrasound to be sure. Ms. Johnson, however, is refusing to cooperate until we let you back with her."

"Then let me back in there."

"It is not usually hospital policy to allow unrelated persons—"

"Look, maybe I'm not technically related to Maureen, but that baby is my child. That's my son. You want to say I can't be there for her, fine. I'm going in for my kid."

The doctor glanced at Mark. "And you are?"

"Friend. Mark Cohen."

Roger turned to face him. "Mark, I—"

"We'll talk later. Go. Don't worry about it. Just go."

Roger followed the doctor past the double doors and into a small room. Maureen lay on a hospital bed. Her cheeks were red with tears. Roger sat beside her, taking her hand in his.

"You okay?"

She nodded.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here but they wouldn't—"

"I know."

"The contractions stop?"

Maureen nodded. "There's….they gave me some IV thing to stop them. They said it was false labor."

Roger nodded.

"Sorry."

"What? What for?"

"For making you worry and drag me down here when you were right and it was fine."

"Maureen, I was just as scared as you and I'd have dragged you down here whether you were freaked out or not."

"You got scared?"

"Of course I did….When I—I just…all I kept thinking was that I didn't tell you."

"Didn't tell me what?"

"That I…I love you too."

"What?"

"I love you too. I just, when you said it…I got scared and I freaked."

"So what now?"

Roger shrugged. "I still don't know if this will work and I'm still not sure this is a good idea, but I want to try."

Maureen smiled up at him. "Me too."

Roger leaned down and kissed her closed lips. The sound of a throat clearing drew them apart. A doctor stood in the doorway.

"Okay, are we ready for the ultrasound now?"

Maureen still held Roger's hand. "He's coming with me."

The doctor nodded. "That's fine."

When the ultrasound came back and showed everything was all right, the doctor agreed to let Maureen go home.

"You'll be fine. Everything looks good. It's not at all unusual for first-time mothers to experience false labor. You were right to come in once they got regular and so close together, just to be on the safe side. Follow up with your OB/GYN next week and until then, try to avoid stress and take it easy. Any questions?"

Maureen thought for a minute before shaking her head. "No, no I think you covered it."

"All right, then, I'll have the nurse bring the discharge papers for you to sign."

"Thank you," Roger said.

"You're quite welcome, Mr. Davis. Ms. Johnson, take care."

"I will, doctor."

The doctor slipped from the room. Roger kissed Maureen's forehead. "You okay if I go tell Mark what's going on?"

"Mark's here?"

"Yeah, I panicked and I thought you were going to actually have the baby and so I called him."

"Well yeah, go tell him."

Roger kissed her again and headed out to the waiting room.

"How is she?" Mark asked as soon as Roger appeared.

"Okay. False labor. We came in because the contractions were, like, two minutes apart."

"Shit," he said, sitting down and sighing.

"Yeah. So, um, sorry that we freaked you out."

"Don't be sorry…Did you tell her what I said?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And she didn't react right away so I freaked out and ran. Then I went back and she said that she loves me."

"Told you so."

"Yeah, well, I didn't believe her so we got into a fight and I left. When I came back, she was having the contractions."

"And you're going to straighten this out with her, right?"

"I already apologized when I went in there. And I told her that I love her."

"Now I want to hear you say it."

Roger's eyebrows knotted in confusion. "What? That I love Maureen?"

"Close…"

"I love you?"

"No, that I was…"

Roger sighed. "Fine, Mark. You were right. Happy?"

"Ecstatic." The smile plastered on his face assured Roger that he truly was happy for them.


	21. Here Goes

It had been three weeks since the false labor and they'd had no more problems. Roger sat on the old couch, Maureen's head on his chest. Mark was at a film festival and Maureen had decided that Roger needed to see _Casablanca_.

"Okay, so Ilsa was Rob's girlfriend?"

"Rick."

"Whatever."

"Yep."

"Why the hell did she get married?"

"Just watch," Maureen said.

When the movie was over, Roger groaned.

"See? Wasn't that, like, the best movie ever?"

"And the most frustrating!"

"Frustrating?"

"Yeah! She was married and fuckin' around with Rick. What the hell's that? She didn't even tell Rick she was married."

"She thought Lazlo was dead," Maureen said with a shrug.

"Okay, well what about spending the night with Rick in Casablanca? She knew about her husband being alive then."

"Who says she spent the night?"

"Huh?"

"Well, all we saw was them kissing. Maybe she pulled away and went home to her husband."

Roger frowned. "I thought they had sex."

"Maybe."

"Well why didn't they spell it out?"

"Because it doesn't matter."

"How does it not matter?"

"Because the story isn't about their sex lives. It's about the love. Whether Ilsa had sex with Rick or not, she loved him. And her husband."

Roger sighed. "I don't know. I'm still a little confused."

Maureen sat up and kissed his cheek. "It's okay. I'm still glad you watched it with me."

"Yeah, well, next time I get to pick the movie."

"Fair enough."

Maureen leaned forward and kissed his mouth, sliding his lips open with her tongue. Roger moaned when she pulled away.

"What was that for?"

"For watching the movie with me."

"Maybe we should watch it again," Roger said with a laugh.

"Very fun—ow!"

"You okay?" Roger asked, sitting up.

"Yeah, just a contraction."

"Getting near your due date so there's probably going to be more of that."

Maureen rolled her eyes at him.

"What?"

"I was at the same doctor appointment as you. I know what the doctor—shit!"

"Another one?" Roger asked. She nodded and he glanced at the clock. "Okay, just take a deep breath."

Maureen sat up, her hand on her belly. "Could you get me some water? Supposed to help with the contractions of false labor."

Roger crossed to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. Maureen sipped it slowly and winced. "Shit!"

"Okay, I'm gonna call the doctor."

The loft door slid open. "Hey, guys. I'm home."

"Mark!" Roger set the phone back down. "Mark, there's, um…she's having contractions again."

Mark unwound his scarf, tossing it onto the ground with his coat. He sat beside Maureen. "You okay, Mo?"

"Do I fucking look okay?"

He looked at Roger who shrugged. "How far apart?"

"Three minutes, give or take."

Mark nodded, holding Maureen's hand. She gripped it tightly as another contraction came on.

"I'm callin' the doctor," Roger said.

Mark nodded and tried to coach Maureen through the contractions. Tears stung her eyes. He patted her back. "It's okay. You're doing good. You're doing good."

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up. All that 'you're doing good' crap they tell you to say doesn't help one fucking bit."

Mark nodded and leaned forward to hug her.

Roger hung the phone up and turned back to them. "Okay, we gotta go. Doctor's meeting us there."

"But I don't think—"

"Babe, please, just trust me on this. Please. Mark, throw some shit in an overnight bag while I get her downstairs."

Mark nodded, flying to her room as Roger helped her off the couch. Mark didn't ask what the doctor had said. They both knew that this was different than the false labor. The false labor contractions started irregularly. These were regular instantly and getting worse.


	22. And It's Beginning

**Note:** _I'm not at all a doctor so I'm not 100 sure that the information here's correct. I just needed Maureen to have the baby early and didn't know what causes it or anything. Hope you guys like this! It's almost done, so let's have some reviews!_

* * *

They took Maureen back right away. Roger stayed as long as they'd allow. He tried to talk her through the contractions. The nurse hooked up an IV to stop them, but it wasn't working. They ran tests Roger hadn't heard of before. The doctor came in, eyes dancing over test results, after an hour.

"All right, Ms. Johnson. We have some test results in."

"What is it? What's going on?" Roger asked.

"Well, the medication we've given hasn't stopped the contractions."

"So I noticed," Maureen said, wincing as another gripped her.

"Why isn't the medication working?"

"We're not entirely sure. Nearly half of all premature births are for no apparent reason."

"But the baby's not born yet."

"Mr. Davis, we've given Ms. Johnson the highest level of medication that we can without endangering both her and the baby."

"What are you saying?"

"The contractions are regular and she's dilated to a six. The baby will be born tonight."

"But I'm only at 30 weeks!"

"It's not unheard of for babies born at thirty weeks to be perfectly healthy."

"But it's not common," Roger said.

"No, no it's not. The sooner we do this, the better chance the baby will have."

"Is the baby okay?" Maureen asked.

"For the moment."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that the umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby's neck. It's a fairly common occurrence and usually straightens itself out. In this case though, it's endangering the baby because of the compounded stress of contractions."

"So what are you going to do?" Maureen asked, clutching Roger's hand.

"We need to perform an emergency Caesarian section."

She nodded. "Can, um, can Roger come with me?"

The doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I'll give you a moment alone while I get the papers for you to sign."

The doctor left and Maureen's tears returned. "Roger, it's too soon. It's too soon."

"It's okay, Mo. The baby will be fine. You'll be fine. We'll just have him here sooner than we thought. It'll be fine."

Maureen brushed away some tears. "I want you to promise me something."

"Maureen…"

"You're the one who always says I'm a drama queen, now let me have my moment."

Roger managed a little smile. "Okay."

"If anything happens to me…okay, I know nothing's going to happen but I feel better if I say this, so just shush…if anything happens to me, you have to promise me that you'll take care of the baby. Okay?"

"I promise. But like you said, nothing's going to happen."

"Roger?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Roger leaned down and kissed her. "You're welcome. I'll be right there in the waiting room, okay? I won't go anywhere."

She nodded, wiping a tear. "Guess this is the first sign."

"Of what?"

"That he doesn't take after either of us," Maureen said, giggling.

Roger frowned. "What? How do you figure?"

"When was the last time either of us was early for anything?"

Roger had to laugh. "Guess you're right."

The doctor returned with papers for her to sign. Medical releases and papers allowing Roger to make any necessary medical decisions on behalf of her and the baby.

"Okay, we'll need to get going then," the doctor said, tucking the papers into her file.

Roger bent down and kissed Maureen again, first on the lips and then the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered.

Roger leaned down to her stomach and kissed it. "I'll see you soon, buddy."

He left as the nurses came to wheel her to the operating room.


	23. I Know

**Note:**_ Okay I was going to have this be the last chapter but it was far too long, in my opinion. So I broke it into two chapters. Here goes…_

* * *

Roger made his way back to the waiting room. Mark stood as soon as he saw him, face wrinkled with concerned.

"How is she? What's going on?"

Roger sat down and motioned for Mark to do the same. "She's, um….they're doing a Caesarian section."

"What? Now?"

"Yeah…they gave her something to stop the contractions but it wasn't working and the ultrasound showed the umbilical cord wrapped around the neck."

"So why are they doing it now? That happens all the time. My nephew had that and—"

"Look I don't have all the answers, Mark. There's more stress or something like that because of the contractions."

"Okay, okay. Will they be okay?"

"Think so."

Mark noticed Roger's legs shaking. He only did that in times of extreme stress. Mark put one hand on his knee, the other on his back. "Calm down, Rog. Deep breaths. They'll be fine."

"I know, I just…"

They sat in silence for the first half hour. Roger alternately paced the room or tapped his legs and fidgeted in his seat. Mark sat almost completely still.

"Roger?"

"Huh?"

"I'm not doing it."

"Not doing what?"

"Being the father."

"What? You said—"

"Listen, okay? I said I would because I didn't think there was anything between you and Mo. There is. You two love each other and there's no way I'm standing between that."

"Mark, I can't do this."

"Yes, you can. You already have."

"What?"

"You told the doctor last time that you were going back there because she's having your kid."

"Mark, I didn't mean—"

"Yes you did. And I'm not mad. You're the baby's father, not me."

"But what about…what about when I get sick?"

"I meant what I said about being there for Maureen and the baby. You're not getting rid of me that easily. I just won't be Daddy. I'll be Uncle Mark. And when you get sick, I'll be there to take care of all three of you."

"Mark, I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can be a father."

"Rog, do you love Maureen?"

Roger nodded, blinking back tears.

"Do you love the baby?"

He nodded again.

"Then you're a father. And I'm not disappearing. I'll still be there to kick your ass if you fuck up."

Roger laughed and pulled Mark into a hug. "You're not mad?"

"Not at all."


	24. In Honor

**Author's Note:** _Okay, here's the final chapter. Little sappy, but not too much, I hope. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed. There will most likely be a sequel, so keep your eyes peeled. No day but today!_

* * *

The doctor came in after a full hour had passed. "Mr. Davis?"

"How is she?" Roger asked, standing.

"She's fine. She's in recovery now."

"And the baby?"

The doctor smiled. "We moved quickly. He's very small. He'll need to stay in the infant ICU ward for a few weeks, but he's strong. And quite healthy considering his premature birth."

"Can-can I go see them?"

"Yes. Only for a few minutes. We need to get the baby into the ICU ward and Ms. Johnson needs her rest as well."

"Um, the baby…I have HIV…"

"Ms. Johnson informed us of that. We've tested the baby and the results should be in next week."

Roger nodded and turned to Mark. "Let's go."

The doctor raised an eyebrow at Mark.

"He's my brother. Baby's godfather."

The doctor nodded and led them into a room.

Maureen lay on the hospital bed, face pale and tired. She held a tiny bundle in her arms. Roger kissed her forehead. "How are you?"

"Okay. Tired, mostly." She lifted the bundle up closer to Roger. "Wanna see your son?"

"Can I hold him?"

Maureen laughed, eyes misting with tears. "Of course."

Roger gently took the baby from her, cradling him close to his chest. A tiny red face stared back at him through the blankets. "Hi, baby," he whispered. "I'm your daddy."

"I think you guys need a new name," Mark said from the doorway.

Maureen smiled over at him. He crossed the room to hug her. "How come?"

"Because David Davis is going to guarantee that kid a daily ass-kicking."

Maureen looked confused. She stared up at Mark, then Roger, and back. "What are you saying?"

"I want us to raise this baby, Maureen. Mark does too."

Maureen's eyes filled with tears. "You guys sure about this?"

They both nodded.

"How about Michael Thomas Davis?" Mark asked.

"Michael Marcus Davis," Roger said.

Maureen shook her head. "Mark Collin Michael Davis."

They all smiled at each other. "You guys sure you want to name the kid Mark?" Mark asked.

They both nodded.

"Besides, if he doesn't like it, he's got two middle names he can choose to go by," Roger said.

Mark leaned down and kissed Maureen's cheek. "Thanks, babe."

"You got it, pookie."

Mark cringed, but laughed at the old nickname. They both watched Roger rock the baby in his arms.

"Hey, little man. You hear that? Your name's Mark Collin Michael Davis. Named after your Uncle Mark and Uncle Collins and Auntie Angel," he said quietly. Roger leaned down and kissed the baby's forehead.


End file.
